Fourth time around

I turned right, they turned left
All through the night
I felt bereft
But I hit gold, fourth time around

I cannot hold the things you stole
Inside my heart there is a hole
But I hit gold fourth time around

There are no keys but those we've lost
There are no bridges but those we've crossed
But I hit gold, fourth time around

I shouldered blame, I soldiered on
A man with no name to give his song
But I hit gold, fourth time around

I am not weak, no I am strong
As you hear me speak
The words of my song
Just the beak and tongue in sound
And you will hear, in your ear
The noble tones of one so dear
I struck gold, fourth time around

And the river covers the railway track
As the giver takes what he gave back
Only words, that can never be unsaid
But as the train rumbles over the river bed
I know at the end will it will reach high ground
As I struck gold, fourth time around

So when you play that final song
All my days will be so long
But no longer than those numbers in the book
And if you seek than you shall find that for which you look
What once was lost it shall be found
As I hit gold, fourth time around

In the shadows in the dust
I ask the shallows for their lust
But I wade out into waters deep
And if you swim against the tide
Then you'll know of what I speak
There are consequences in heaven
four times four is not four times seven
But you will find on fourth of July
My independence shall be no lie
I struck gold, fourth time around

Tough love

Tough love

Is gonna pull you through

Tough love will tell you what to do

Well if tough love do for me

Tough love will do for you

Tough love when you’re hanging on the ledge

Tough love when you’re making your pledge

Tough love must be enough

Tough love is rough

Hard truths will pull you through

Hard truths like slate rooves
Hard truths will keep the rain off you
Hold your judgement
Like books on shelves
Hard truths will pull you through

Wings of a hawk

If I had the wings of a hawk

I would not run I would not walk

You would stare and stand 

As I flew down into your hand

If I had the wings of a hawk

If I had the wings of a hawk

I would not argue I would not talk

You'd be there and understand

As I flapped my wings flew to your hand

If I had the wings of a hawk

If I had the wings of a hawk

I'd fly up high and feel tall

I'd spread my wings circle above it all

Until all those big things start to feel small

If I had the wings of a hawk

If I had the wings of a hawk

I would not cry I would not balk

At all the things that cannot be

When I see you and you see me

If I had the wings of a hawk

The key words of Jack London

He was a militant Oyster
On a Panic patrol
He relished in sloop socialists
And slum sonnets

He was hobo industrial
Who turned his hand to vagrancy
Left to wander

Abandoned astrologer
An adventurous spirit
On an astrology attack
He was auto didact
who wrote ballads of broken fashion
On freight trains of fortune

He took everything but the kitchen

He took the hoover

The cupboard door

He took the watering can, the bucket

And the bucket list

He took the hose pipe

The drain pipe

And the chipped mantlepiece

He took the inglenook fire place

The stoker, the poker

The dust pan and brush

He took the oil lamp

The rising damp in the skirting board

The wall paper, the curtain draper

And the curtain rings and poles

He took the carpet, the plaster board,

The coat hangers and stand

The cupboard the closet and the wardrobe

He took everything but the kitchen sink

He took the sofa,

The armchair, the pouf and futon

The cushions and pillows

And the bath matt

He even took a seat, when I offered him the chair

But it was my bed that he made

And he lay in it

He took the bidet the toilet

He even took the piss

He took the hot tap, the cold tap

He even stole a kiss

He took everything but the Kitchen sink

He took the garage door

The front door

The back door and porch

He took the launch

It took him ages, it took him minutes

But it was gone in the blink of the eye

He took the china from cabinet

He even took the bull by the horns

He took this, he took that

He took the mickey and the piece of cake

He really took the biscuit

But I asked him to leave it

He took everything but the Kitchen sink

He took the lounge room, the landing

He took the picture frames from the wall

He left the pictures there hanging

Because he didn’t like them much at all

He took the dog, he took the cat

He took the cat flap and kennel

He took the back yard, the front yard

The rose bushes and rails

He took the picket fence

And he took offense

When I threw the post at him

Well he deserved just what he got

He even took the holes in the wall

He took everything but the kitchen sink

He left me that at least

Where I can sit and think

In peace now he’s gone

Letter in a bottle

By the time you get this

The hills will have boiled

The shrugging chimneys

Will have spouted forth smokes

The dignity of trees will have reminded you of forbearance

And given shape to your patience

In the fulfilment of time

As you wait out the winter

In the quarries of sadness

The sad stones are crushed

Into mountains of lime

As the rubble lakes lie

In the seas of your eyes

Where blood tears have fallen

From the railway line

These tracks are so forlorn

As iron whiskers worn

By cats

And children who play in the ruins

On the brown broken down platforms

Of the railway line

The picture of sadness of Hungary are not the trees

Or the dereliction of the buildings

These are just superficial responses

To an underlying cause,

What future hopes are there

for any of them?

What future for any of us?

Burning the Bridges in Budapest

They're burning the Bridges of Budapest
Watch as they all fall down
They're burning them slowly
Like a fire vest, you wear
Then jump in the river and drown

They're burning them slowly, they're burning them fast
all of those bridges not only, bridges to the past
Bridges to the future
Hopes and dreams
They're all falling into
The Danube streams

They're forgetting the town
Forgetting people too
They're burning the bridges down
That means you
Its time to get out before its all lost
Once the bridges are all burnt
You won't get across
There are tongues that are tied
Speaking languages many
There are beggars on the ground
Saving every penny
But its running around
Rolling down the hill
And the mob is in town
On a bridge burning bill

Don't ask me for a reason
I have none to confess
Just time and the season
Of restlessness
Spring is coming
I can feel it on the tides
They must be turning
Because their burning bridges and brides
They're holding up the stick men to the flame
They are setting light their heads
In confusion and blame
And we're all done for
In the final name game
Nobody gets out alive
But their burning bridges just the same